


Being Romantic

by Klitch



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:36:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klitch/pseuds/Klitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Yata decides to take Fushimi's virginity, assuming Fushimi still has it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being Romantic

**Author's Note:**

> Misaru fic. Because fandom definitely needs more Misaru. It feels like it's been a long time since I tried writing smut and it turned out sillier than planned.

“...What is this?”

“...Dinner. Shut up.”

“Misaki...”

“I'm being romantic. _Shut up.”_

They sat on either side of the table, staring at the truly impressive spread of dishes laid out upon it. Yata had made everything he could think of that involved meat and no vegetables, which equaled to about three dishes repeated in various ways.

It had seemed romantic at the time, that was all, and it wasn't like any of this was Yata's fault anyway.

–

The way it began was this:

After a long drawn out period of animosity, Yata and Fushimi had finally at long last settled their differences and reunited amicably (“settling their differences” had, in this case, involved several broken bones, even more broken property, quite a bit of blood, a near-death experience, a somewhat melodramatic declaration of love and more crying than Yata would ever be comfortable admitting). Reconciliation achieved, they had gone back to living together and things had gone back to almost the way they had been before the whole betrayal mess ('almost' meaning that Fushimi was still maybe slightly more unhinged than Yata remembered and also there was considerably more making out, which he was not entirely opposed to).

Once they began living together Yata immediately made it his mission to get Fushimi back into a decent sort of shape. He'd been diligent in making sure Fushimi ate actual nutritious food and didn't skip meals – he'd actually resorted to exchanging email addresses with a couple of Fushimi's subordinates, because he needed extra eyes wherever he could get them and even Yata drew the line at invading Scepter 4's cafeteria to be sure Fushimi ate his lunch. He had at least found that this became easier once he'd started packing the lunches for Fushimi ahead of time and forcing the food into his arms before leaving work. He'd even managed to get Fushimi to eat a vegetable the other day. ( _A_ vegetable, singular. A slice of radish, which had been probably just gotten mixed in a little too closely with the meat and Fushimi had gagged a little on it but he _did_ swallow it, so Yata was counting that as a victory.) All in all, Yata felt fairly satisfied with what his life had currently become.

(For their part, the special forces members of Scepter 4 were extremely pleased with their superior's new found happiness. Fushimi's demeanor had not exactly _lightened,_ per se, but he had gone from constant seething bitterness to a sort of neutral calm with occasional storm clouds. In any case, he only threatened to kill people maybe twice a day and sometimes actually even said 'please' when he needed someone to rewrite a report, which for Fushimi was effectively the equivalent of skipping through the halls telling everyone what a great job they were doing and how much he appreciated their hard work.)

So when Yata started to get the vaguest sort of hazy feeling that there was another step left to take, he tried his best to ignore it. He did a quite splendid job at ignoring it until one day when he was hanging out at Bar Homra taking a break from the summer heat. The bar was full with a good handful of Homra members crowding inside and simply enjoying the day. Topics of conversation swung back and forth from who had beaten up who lately and who could spit the farthest and how badly Kusanagi would kill anyone who dared to spit on his precious bar.

That was when Chitose took a long, dramatic swig of his drink and slammed the glass down on the counter.

“My head still hurts from last night,” he sighed. “All day at that club, and I couldn't get the time of day from a single girl. Am I getting old? Losing my touch?”

“All of the above?” Dewa suggested, rolling his eyes. Chitose gave him a slightly blurry glare.

“It's like I'm under a curse,” he said with a sigh. “Seriously, it seems like it's been _ages_ since I got some.”

“Some what?” Yata questioned without thinking. He knew he shouldn't have said anything when all heads turned to look at him. From the corner of his eye he saw Kusanagi sidle away from the bar and towards the stairs, presumably to make sure Anna stayed up in her room until the talk unfit for the ears of children was over.

“You...really don't know?” Chitose asked. His glare was strangely intense and Yata swallowed a little worriedly.

_“Virgin,_ ” Eric said with certainty from the corner of the room and Yata immediately jumped to his feet.

“Sh-shut up!” he snapped, crossing his arms. “You sound like the stupid monkey.”

The room went silent again as the others exchanged another look.

“Will you all stop that?” Yata growled.

“N-now, just calm down, Yata-san.” Kamamoto tried to intervene but it was already too late.

“I've been wondering this for a while,” Chitose said. “Yata...isn't it weird that your own boyfriend calls you a virgin?”

“Why's that weird?” Yata muttered. 

“So it's true, huh?” Chitose smiled sympathetically.

“Eh? It's really true?” Akagi leaned forward.

“Really is true, huh,” Bandou said sadly, nodding.

“Virgins,” Eric shook his head as if it was all a shame. 

“Wh-what's with you guys?!” Yata snapped. He could feel his face going bright red. “It's—it's not a big deal, right? And-and anyway, who the hell said I was a virgin, huh? You guys are just assuming--”

“The _guy you're dating_ says you're a virgin,” Chitose pointed out. “That kinda says it all, right?”

“Well—well, what makes you think he knows anything?” Yata sat back down with a huff.

“That means you guys haven't done _it_ yet, right?” Chitose leaned in close, smirking.

“I-i-it?” Yata stuttered, backing away. Everyone was definitely staring at him now and it was making him uncomfortable. 

“You know,” Chitose said pointedly. “ _Sex_. Have you guys done it yet?”

“H-how the hell is it any of your business?” Yata said.

“Well, most guys your age have done it by now.”

“Virgin,” Eric added again from the back. Somehow Yata wanted to punch him the most.

“Not everyone!” Yata insisted. “I-I mean, Kamamoto--” He looked desperately at his friend, who looked away sheepishly. “T-then okay, Bandou--” Bandou laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. “All right, all right, but I _know_ Eric--” Eric smirked and latched on to Fujishima's arm a little more tightly; Fujishima's expression remained serene but there was a slight blush to his cheeks. “Wait, really? Is it really just me?”

Chitose was already shaking his head sadly.

“Well, okay, maybe all of you guys are perverts, but Saruhiko's never--”

“Are you _sure_ about that?” Chitose was still looking at him intensely.

“Eh?” Yata stopped, dumbstruck. “W-well, of course he is, right? I mean, I'd definitely know...”

“But you guys had a big falling out for a while, right?” Akagi spoke up, looking thoughtful. “I mean, in that time, he could've done anything and you wouldn't have known, right?”

“And there's an awful lot of guys in Scepter 4,” Bandou added. “He could've gone with any of them right?”

“Or all of them,” Eric put in, and Yata's shoulders stiffened.

“W-what the hell are you guys trying to say about Saruhiko, huh?” Yata sputtered. “Saru wouldn't-- I mean, Saru definitely hasn't--”

“But you don't _know_ , right?” Chitose noted. “He really could've been with anybody.”

“Even the Blue King,” Dewa said with a slightly awed look.

Yata's eyes darted helplessly between them all as he tried not to think about it – because when you got right down to it, they were all absolutely right. He and Fushimi _had_ been apart for a long time and sure, anything could've _technically_ happened in that time. Scepter 4 really was filled with guys who Yata supposed were pretty decent looking, for guys. It actually made him kinda wonder about the Blue King's way of picking his subordinates and then that led to the nasty little reminder that Munakata had gone after Fushimi _personally_ and then there were all the sudden inescapable mental visions of a blushing Fushimi with the Blue King leering indecently at him from above--

“Aargh!” Yata slammed his head against the nearest wall, trying to wipe away the mental images.

“Yata-san, calm down!” Kamamoto tried to stop him from giving himself a concussion. Yata had finally stomped away from the bar and was stalking angrily down the street trying to think of something, _anything_ but Fushimi being at the center of a pile of naked Scepter 4 clansmen. 

“He wouldn't do something like that, right?” Yata muttered to himself, ignoring Kamamoto and the strange looks the two of them were getting from passersby. “Right, there's no way. That stupid monkey doesn't even hang out with his people _now_ unless I make him so he definitely wouldn't be doing any... _stuff_ with them, right?”

Fushimi was still hopelessly antisocial even after everything. Yata was doing his best in that department too, on the theory that a Fushimi with more than one friend would be better at handling Yata's continued insistence on actually having other people in his life. That was the other reason for having the phone numbers of some of the Scepter 4 people, after all – sometimes one of them would email him to let him know that there was a party or an after work drinking social event and if he could convince Fushimi-san to come they would all like to spend the time with him, and Yata would give Fushimi a nudge in that direction. Fushimi only grumbled a little about it these days and Yata suspected that Fushimi was actually secretly starting to make friends but was doing his best to make it seem like he wasn't for appearance's sake. (He didn't go to the drinking parties anymore, though, not after the time Yata had been surprised in the middle of the night to find that one guy, Akiyama, standing nervously on his doorstep accompanied by a very drunk and only mildly coherent Fushimi, and Yata had spent the rest of the night in the bathroom holding Fushimi's hair back while his boyfriend threw up everything in his stomach. Later Yata had tried asking Fushimi exactly how many drinks he'd _had_ anyway and the reply had been a tongue click. He'd texted Akiyama later and found out that the answer was apparently half a glass, and as it turned out Fushimi had the unique ability to get drunk off of fumes.)

Even so, there was still the little pinprick of doubt that wouldn't leave him alone. It only took one night after all, right? Yata had a vague idea of how these things happened from way back, overhearing his mother talk about her romance novels with a friend. It just took one moment of weakness and Saruhiko would be swept up in someone's manly arms and whisked away in throes of burning passion or something like that.

“Yata-san, why don't you just let it go?” Kamamoto ventured nervously. “Don't think about what those guys said. Everyone was just teasing.”

“It's not weird, is it?” Yata grumbled, looking away. “Just because those perverts all lost their virginity out of middle school or whatever...”

“Ah...” Kamamoto looked slightly at a loss, unsure if he was being lumped in with 'those perverts' or not. Yata glared at him and Kamamoto cowered a little. “Maybe you should talk to Fushimi...?”

“The hell I'm doing that!” Yata snapped. “What am I supposed to say, 'Hey, monkey, are you a virgin? Just wondering.'” He sighed and stopped walking. “Hey. Kamamoto.”

“Yeah?”

“When you...you know, when you...” Yata coughed, face starting to go red. “When you... _did it,_ how did it, you know, start? Like, did you ask, or...?”

“Um...” Kamamoto trailed off with a weak laugh that suggested he would really rather not discuss love lives in public like this. “I didn't really _plan_ it or anything. We had a date at my place and I made her dinner, and then it just kinda...happened.”

“Dinner, huh?” Yata looked thoughtful in all the worst ways and Kamamoto had a sinking feeling. “All right, I've decided.”

“Decided...?”

“I'm going to show those assholes!” Yata said confidently. “Tonight, I'm going to take that stupid monkey's virginity, assuming he still has it!”

“All...right...?” Kamamoto said weakly, edging backwards. People were staring again.

“First, I'm going to make him a romantic dinner,” Yata stated, grabbing Kamamoto's arm. “Come on. We're buying ingredients!”

Ignoring Kamamoto's stuttering protestations Yata began to stride confidently down the street towards the nearest market.

–

In the end, Yata hadn't really been able to figure out exactly what would be the best sort of meal for this situation so he'd made everything he knew how to make that Fushimi would actually eat. Then he experimented as best he could, cooking with the desperate air of a man trying very hard not to think about sex.

It wasn't like he was _that_ much of a virgin anyway, Yata decided, taking out his frustrations on an innocent piece of beef. After all, he and Fushimi did plenty of physical stuff now (the good kind of stuff, not the beating each other senseless kind, though there were occasional moments of that too). He'd learned that Fushimi really liked kissing, for one thing, the really long and deep kind, and Yata had gotten used to getting his lips bitten occasionally and actually didn't even mind it that much – if Fushimi was biting him that meant Fushimi was really enjoying it, and knowing Fushimi was into it made Yata feel kinda excited too. The first time he'd had Fushimi's tongue in his mouth had been a bit of a surprise but it hadn't been _unpleasant,_ exactly, and Yata liked to think that okay, even if he _was_ a virgin at least he was a virgin who was a pretty good kisser thank you very much.

And they even slept in the same bed most nights – in many ways Yata was re-learning how to handle Fushimi and this was one of them, figuring out how close Fushimi would let him get on an any given night. Some days Fushimi would climb into his own bunk without a word and curl up in a ball, and any attempt by Yata to get close to him would result in being unceremoniously kicked onto the floor. Other nights Fushimi would seem standoffish but would climb into bed with Yata anyway and they'd sleep back to back, and all night Yata would be vaguely bothered by the obvious nervous tension in his boyfriend's thin frame. And then there were days when Fushimi would all but wrap himself around Yata and would sleep like that all night long, and fuss irritably if Yata moved. It was a delicate sort of thing, figuring out the swinging of Fushimi's moods and how best to gather all those broken bits and pieces of Fushimi's psyche that were still so clearly defined even now, all the cracks still evident even as Yata did his best to repair them.

And on at least one of those nights, when Fushimi had been wrapped around him and their lips had found each others, they had writhed against each other a bit and Yata had very nearly had his hands down Fushimi's pants before the sudden embarrassment froze him solid and he'd settled for grinding his hips against Fushimi's and holding him close. He'd kinda felt vaguely warm and a little disappointed afterward and he couldn't help but wonder if Fushimi had been too, but at the time he really hadn't been sure. Fushimi had slept with his back to Yata after that, and Yata was never quite sure if the clear signs of irritation in Fushimi's posture had been due to what Yata had almost done or what he hadn't.

Yata sighed and looked down helplessly at the small array of dishes he'd made. He was vaguely aware that 'romantic dinner' required more than just food but he wasn't really sure how to go about the rest. His mental image of a romantic dinner included nice napkins and fancy dishes, none of which they had, and possibly lights dimmed with some candles lit, but low light bothered Fushimi's eyes and he hated the smell of melting wax. Yata's limited knowledge of romance novels also kept quietly insisting on things like rose petals all over the bed, except Yata suspected if he did that Fushimi would probably smack him in the head or burst out laughing (or both) and Fushimi had plant allergies anyway so that was out.

Basically, Yata had somehow ended up with the world's most high-maintenance boyfriend and it was absolutely _killing_ the whole romance deal.

In the end he settled for artfully arranging the plates as best he could on their small table and folding the napkins into little squares. Then he slipped into something a little more comfortable (which was still just a loose shirt and shorts like what he normally wore because Yata didn't really have any outfits that could properly convey the meaning of 'Hey, I want to have all the sex with you' so he just settled on the classics) and waited.

Fushimi actually managed to get home on time for once, which Yata took as a good luck sign. Upon seeing Yata sitting in his most calculated 'just lounging here casually' pose in front of a table full of food, he raised an eyebrow and looked half ready to turn around and leave again.

And that was how they ended up sitting on either side of the table, Fushimi eying Yata warily as he very slowly picked at his food and occasionally actually even ate some of it.

“Being romantic, huh?” Fushimi said. There was a hint of mockery in his voice that made Yata bristle.

“I-I can be romantic sometimes, you know!”

Fushimi snorted in reply and took another bite of his food.

“And _anyway,_ I don't want to hear it from a guy who probably doesn't even know what the word means,” Yata added darkly. Fushimi ignored him and focused on his food. Yata squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly not sure what to say. “So...is it good? I mean...I worked real hard on it. It's hard to make stuff you like.”

Fushimi looked back up at him, face inscrutable, but Yata thought there might have been a hint of color in his cheeks as he quickly looked back down.

“'S good.” Fushimi reached over and took a piece of meat off Yata's plate and Yata let him without complaint since he was, after all, being romantic.

Yata fidgeted slightly, trying to keep himself looking calm and casual. Fushimi continued eating slowly, fussing over his food the way he normally did and occasionally shooting Yata vaguely suspicious glares between bites.

“So, um...” Yata swallowed nervously and Fushimi stopped eating to stare at him. Somehow the room seemed stifling. Yata couldn't help but think these things were so much easier in movies, where no one actually had to blurt things out like “So, do you want to have sex with me?” and instead could just go straight to the kissing and groping and fading to black (he was torn on whether he'd like the fade to black or not, on the one hand it seemed so much less embarrassing but on the other he _did_ honestly kinda want to know what he was missing). “Saruhiko. I was-was--”

“I'm finished,” Fushimi declared flatly, cutting Yata off as he stood. He had eaten about half a plate of food off his own plate, which was possibly a new record. Yata quickly got to his feet.

“Hey, Saruhiko, wait a second!” Yata grabbed his arm.

“What is it?” Fushimi pulled away irritably. “Some of us have to work all day and I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap.” 

“B-but--” Yata wilted visibly as Fushimi walked away. He glanced back at the mess of his so-called 'romantic' dinner and felt a surge of frustration. _What did you expect, you idiot, that's not even actually romantic and it's not like Saru ever really notices that kind of stuff anyway..._

“Thanks.” The words were so quiet Yata almost didn't hear them and his head shot up. Fushimi was still turned away from him and his voice was mumbled but clear. “...For the food.”

Fushimi's voice was flat, almost grudging, but Yata had been with him long enough to know that it was just the way Fushimi acted when he was actually sincerely grateful and had no idea how to properly show it. Confidence came rushing back and Yata steeled himself, striding forward and grabbing Fushimi's arm again.

“What--” Fushimi began to complain again and was cut off as Yata pressed his lips over his. The tension in Fushimi's shoulders seemed to evaporate as the two of them stumbled backwards. Yata could feel the redness growing in his face but he didn't let up on the kiss, not even when Fushimi's tongue found its way into his mouth. Together they fell back onto Yata's bed, Fushimi lying beneath Yata, and at last Yata pulled away from him, breathing hard.

“Misaki...” Fushimi was staring up at him with a look of slight bewilderment as if he wasn't quite sure what had just happened but was not particularly upset by it.

“Saruhiko...” Yata swallowed again, his throat far too dry. “Saru, I.....I want to have s-s-se--” He licked his lips nervously. “I want to have s-sex with you.”

Yata wasn't sure what reaction he was hoping for from Fushimi but bursting into mocking laughter was fairly low on the list.

“What?” Yata snapped, annoyed.

“Nothing,” Fushimi said, smiling crookedly. “You're such a _virgin_ , Misaki. How do you expect to do it if you can't even _say_ it?”

“I said it fine!” Yata said. “I want to have se-s-se-”

_“Sex,_ ” Fushimi said with all the patience of someone trying to teach a particularly slow child how to pronounce their name. “It isn’t very hard to say, Misaki. Try it again. _Sex._ ”

“Shut up,” Yata muttered. “A-anyway, who cares if I can say it or not? It's not like I'm asking to _talk_ about it.”

“That's why you're such a virgin,” Fushimi said with a quiet laugh. “It's no wonder you've never seen a naked girl before.”

“I'm talking about us, girls don't have anything to do with this,” Yata argued. “And besides, I've—I've seen a naked girl before, so there.”

“Helping your mother bathe your baby sister does not count as 'seeing a naked girl.'”

_“Anyway,_ ” Yata said a touch desperately, “if you want me to stop being such a virgin then why aren't you actually answering me?”

Fushimi looked annoyed and clicked his tongue.

“Well?” The nervousness was welling up in him again and Yata willed it down. “I—I wanna do it with you, Saruhiko. I mean—we've been together for a while and everything and maybe it's not important to you or anything but I--” He was cut off by Fushimi suddenly reaching up and wrapping his arms around Yata's shoulders, burying his face in Yata's neck.

“Yes.” Fushimi's voice was muffled but clear. “I want to. I want to be with Misaki.”

“Saru...” Yata thought maybe he wasn't the only one feeling stifled, Fushimi's normally cool body felt warm in his arms. “Is-is it really okay? I mean, you want to...you know...with me?”

“Sex,” Fushimi said pointedly, pulling back to lay back down on the bed. He was laughing softly again. “Really, no wonder you're a virgin.”

“You won't be able to call me a virgin again soon, you know,” Yata said peevishly.

“Hmm? Misaki will always be a virgin, that's just how things are.”

“W-well, you are too, right?” Yata said, suddenly intense as he leaned down to look Fushimi in the face. “I mean...I'm your first too, right?”

Fushimi didn't answer for a moment and then gave Yata a slow, amused smile.

“W-wait, really?” Yata said. “You're really not—really? Wait—who was it? It was that bastard the Blue King, wasn't it? That asshole took advantage of you, didn't he? I don't care if he's a king, I'll kick his ass--”

“Idiot.” Fushimi gave Yata a quick kiss on the cheek. “It was nobody.”

“Nobody?” It took a moment for the words to sink in. “So-so you haven't--”

“No.”

“Then you're a virgin too!” Yata stated pointedly. “You're always calling _me_ virgin all the time like it's so awful and you're totally just as bad!”

_“Sex_ ,” Fushimi said again and smirked when Yata's face immediately went even brighter red and his mouth snapped shut. “Honestly, Misaki...”

“Shut up,” Yata grumbled and Fushimi reached up for him.

“Make me.” Fushimi's voice was low, tinged with something that made Yata's skin tingle as Fushimi kissed him again. Their breath mingled, Fushimi nipping lightly at Yata's bottom lip and Yata's hands fumbled for the buttons on Fushimi's shirt.

It was not as easy as the movies made it look and Yata nearly broke the kiss as one of the buttons got stuck. Fushimi made a soft noise in his throat, half-amused, half-exasperated, and his hands closed over Yata's, guiding them. Fushimi's shirt hung open, revealing his pale chest. 

And with it the burn scar, slightly better looking now that Yata had finally gotten him to stop scratching it but all Yata's care couldn't undo years of neglect. Yata paused, breath catching, and then Fushimi took his hands again, bringing one of Yata's fingers up to his mouth.

“It's all right.” Fushimi's voice shook only slightly as he lightly sucked at Yata's finger. “It doesn't hurt anymore.”

“Yeah, but...” Yata shifted nervously. “Is it okay?”

“Such a _virgin_ ,” Fushimi said with a slight laugh and Yata scowled at him. “It's fine.” He leaned back, letting his shirt fall down loosely away from his shoulders. “Touch me, Misaki.”

Yata licked his lips nervously. He honestly hadn't quite expected this – for all his bravado, Yata had secretly been unable to banish the thought that Fushimi would be the one to take charge, would be the one climbing all over _him_ instead of the other way around. The sudden and clear intent to lay back and let Yata do as he wanted was both intimidating and a little thrilling.

Tentatively, Yata leaned forward. He had admittedly only a mild idea of how this whole thing worked – a working knowledge cobbled together from general osmosis and overheard romance novels and what he knew made himself feel good (there was also a scattering of recollections from that time Anna had gotten lost in the adult manga section of the bookstore and had been found reading a book whose images Yata still couldn't think about without blushing). He pressed his lips against Fushimi's neck, running his tongue along the skin. Fushimi made a soft noise in his throat and moved his head aside to allow Yata better access. Yata sucked lightly at Fushimi's skin, running his the edges of his teeth just slightly along the flesh, not enough to make a mark but to hurt just a little bit, and Fushimi gave a soft purr of obvious pleasure (Yata had already figured that one out long ago and locked it away for further use, that Fushimi had always liked a little bit of pain).

He continued nipping softly at Fushimi's neck as one hand slid down, hovering almost uncertainly over a nipple. Fushimi's hand closed over his, pressed it down against his chest, and Yata pulled lightly at it even as he continued to kiss Fushimi's neck. Fushimi moved almost sinuously beneath him and Yata risked moving his hand lower, pressing against the obvious bulge in Fushimi's pants.

“Misaki...” Fushimi breathed lightly as Yata kissed his way down to his collar bone and then lower, tongue encircling one of his nipples. One of Fushimi's hands entangled itself in Yata's hair as Yata sucked lightly at his skin, clearly trying to restrain himself from pulling Yata closer. The sound of his name on Fushimi's lips, breathy and deep in a way Yata had never quite heard it before, made Yata suddenly achingly aware of the strain in his own pants.

Yata reached for Fushimi's belt and a hand on his wrist stopped him. Fushimi was looking at him with half-lidded eyes, smiling slightly.

“Let me first,” Fushimi murmured. Yata felt another small thrill of excitement run up his spine as Fushimi leaned forward, almost falling into Yata's lap as he reached for the hem of Yata's pants. Yata's face felt hot again and he hoped he wasn't blushing as Fushimi's hand reached into his boxers, freeing his clearly erect cock.

“S-Saru...” Yata didn't quite know what he was supposed to do in this situation. He felt excited and weirdly embarrassed, and Fushimi's fingers felt good on his skin. 

“Just enjoy it, Misaki,” Fushimi said, a bit of the usual mischievous lilt in his voice as he stared at Yata's erection with almost the same face Yata recalled him using when trying to figure out a particularly difficult problem.

“Sa--” Yata started to say and then the word was cut off with a rather mortifying squeak of surprise as Fushimi took Yata's cock into his mouth.

It felt good. It felt _really_ good, damn it, and Yata couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips. Fushimi seemed to laugh quietly, mouth still wet around Yata's length, a soft vibration that tingled along Yata's spine. Fushimi's tongue ran along the shaft of his cock and upwards towards the tip, teeth scraping the skin just enough, and Yata couldn't stop himself from giving another low moan, hands tangling in Fushimi's hair. Fushimi's tongue worked at him slowly, mouth too hot on Yata's skin.

“S-Saruhiko...” The name was nothing more than a breath, the unspoken “more” hanging in the air between them as Fushimi lowered his mouth over Yata's length again and even the sight of him there between Yata's legs was enough to make Yata's cock even harder. Fushimi leaned in, taking Yata's length deeper into his mouth and Yata could feel heat building up within him and his hips bucked as his hands wrapped tighter in Fushimi's hair, involuntarily pulling Fushimi closer so that he was almost entirely in Fushimi's mouth and he needed more, hot and wet and so damn _good_ and Yata's hips thrust forward almost involuntarily--

Then Fushimi bit down again, not the light scrape of teeth like before but very nearly an actual damn _bite_ and Yata yelped in pain as he fell backwards. 

“W-what the hell was that for, monkey?” Yata gasped out. He still felt almost hazy and it was hard to get himself back together. Fushimi was coughing slightly and glared darkly at him.

“Are you trying to _choke_ me?!” Fushimi demanded, wiping his mouth on the back of one hand.

“Huh? But I was—you were--”

_“Virgin,_ ” Fushimi muttered and Yata glared at him.

“I don't need to hear that from the _also-virgin_ with the fucking gag reflex.”

“Tch.” Fushimi clicked his tongue and sat up, crossing his arms. “Learn to control yourself first.”

“I didn't expect you to do _that,_ ” Yata stated, and the memory of the 'that' they were talking about was enough to make his cheeks turn red again. “Wh-where the hell did you learn to do that anyway?”

“Government secret,” Fushimi said with a smirk.

“Government...? Wait, what the hell do you do at that job of yours--”

“Honestly.” Fushimi sighed and pressed his lips against Yata's to quiet him. “Really, Misaki, you're so _gullible._ It's almost cute.”

“A-am not.” It was hard to stay annoyed when Fushimi was still half naked and kissing him like that. 

“I don't suppose a virgin like you did any research into this at all,” Fushimi continued, one hand going to undo his belt. “Did you even bring any lubricant, Misaki?”

“Lubri...oh, right, yeah! Actually, I did, I'll have you know!” Yata fumbled for it underneath his mattress for a moment before his hands closed around the tube and he held it up proudly. “See? _And_ I bought it by myself, so stop giving me all that 'virgin' crap.”

Yata crossed his arms and tried to look confident while ignoring the small voice in the back of his head pointing out that his words were only partially true, as he had gone into the store but hadn't quite managed to handle the actual paying part. But it hadn't been his fault and it certainly had _nothing to do_ with being a virgin and he would have totally brought it up to the register without any issue except the only cashier on duty at the store had been a girl and even from down the aisle Yata could almost feel her looking at him, eyes boring into his skull and heavy with the knowledge that he, Yata Misaki, was a virgin buying lubricant in order to have first time sex with his boyfriend, and the mortification had been too much for him so he'd placed a wad of cash in Kamamoto's hand and sent him up to pay for everything. But it had still been Yata's _money_ , so _technically_ he had bought the lube all by himself (with some slight assistance).

“Tch. So do you know how to _use_ it?” Fushimi asked, removing his belt and letting it fall to the floor. He began to unzip his pants and Yata's eyes couldn't help but follow the movement. Fushimi smirked, clearly aware he was being watched and enjoying every moment of it.

“I do know what I'm doing here, you know,” Yata stated. “I mean mostly.” Fushimi's gave him a sardonic smile, head hanging loosely to one side as a hand hovered over the hem of his pants.

“I don't know if I should trust myself to someone's unskillful hands,” Fushimi teased. “But I knew that getting into it with you, I suppose. Go ahead, then. Prepare me, Misaki.”

“What's that supposed to – wait. You mean, you want me to...” Yata trailed off. It wasn't like he hadn't _thought_ about it, position-wise. He'd thought about it until thinking about it became too distracting and he'd had to focus on his cooking to calm himself down. The idea of Fushimi beneath him had been honestly kind of a turn on but Yata hadn't expected to get his way without a fight. All this obedience from the person who usually seemed to almost take pride in being unreasonably stubborn was....disconcerting, somehow.

“If you don't want to, we can stop right now.” Fushimi wasn't looking at him now and there was something dull and contrary in his tone, something that took Yata back immediately to a room in a large empty house and a red-faced sniffling Fushimi huddled under a blanket with a computer and a box of tissues.

_Honestly, this guy really is an idiot,_ Yata thought fondly. _That's why I can't leave you alone, you know?_

Yata reached over and grabbed Fushimi by his shoulder, pulling him forward into a tight hug. Fushimi made a surprised sound in his throat that began as a sort of squawk and ended in a tongue click.

“Misaki, what are you doing, you idiot?” Fushimi squirmed and Yata placed a fist lightly on his head.

“Dummy,” Yata said, feeling all his nervousness suddenly evaporate away. “I didn't make you a romantic dinner for nothing, you know.”

“Tch.” Fushimi clicked his tongue and Yata laughed quietly.

“Seriously, Saruhiko.” Yata released Fushimi and held him at arms length, staring him straight in the face. “I want to do it with you, okay? I just...I kinda didn't think you'd make it so _easy,_ that's all.”

Fushimi snorted and wouldn't meet his eyes. Yata sighed and began to unscrew the lid from the bottle of lube.

“Turn around, okay? I'll try to make this not hurt.”

“Big words from a virgin,” Fushimi half-mumbled, still clearly a little unsteady with himself. Even so he did as Yata asked, turning around as Yata began to slide off Fushimi's pants.

“W-wait, Saruhiko, what the...?”

“What?” Fushimi leaned his head back, trying to see what Yata was staring at.

“What the hell, you perverted monkey, you—you weren't wearing any underwear?!” Yata sputtered. “Wh-why weren't you...I mean, you _usually_...right?”

“Hmm? Oh, that.” Fushimi shrugged lightly, unconcerned. “It was all in the laundry.” 

“Most people would just _wash their clothes_ ,” Yata gritted out, trying to shut off the part of his brain that insisted on pointing out that his boyfriend had been at work all day without underwear on (and _why_ was he suddenly turned on by this, there was definitely something wrong with the both of them and it was a good thing he was already hard or Fushimi probably would have teased him about it for weeks).

“Takes too long.” Fushimi gave him a slightly shaky smile. “Is something wrong, _Misaki_? This isn't the first time I've gone without, you know...” 

“Seriously Saruhiko, I wonder about you sometimes,” Yata said flatly and Fushimi laughed.

“This just makes things easier on you, right? Misaki.”

“W-well, yeah, but...” Yata shook his head and tried to gather himself again, sliding Fushimi's pants the rest of the way off and discarding them on the floor with the rest of their clothes.

Yata swallowed back another wave of nervousness as he placed a few squirts of lubricant onto his fingers. It felt cool against his flushed skin and Yata pressed a finger against Fushimi's entrance. He could feel Fushimi's skin tense slightly beneath him, but Fushimi didn't make a sound and with only a little hesitation Yata worked one finger inside.

Fushimi sucked in a sharp breath, his face turned away and half-buried in Yata's pillow.

“Does it hurt?” Yata asked, pausing.

“'S fine.” Fushimi's voice was muffled but clear. “Just feels...strange. Keep going.”

“Mmm.” Yata nodded, not sure what to say, and carefully added another finger. The coolness of the lubricant mingled with the warmth of Fushimi's insides and Yata pressed his fingers a little deeper inside. He could feel Fushimi's tension easing just a bit but still clearly there, a kind of quivering worry and need mingled together. Yata licked his lips and pressed a third finger inside.

Fushimi's quiet gasp was swallowed by the pillow and Yata wanted to look at him, to see his face. Fushimi's backside was slightly raised, legs shaking just a bit, and Yata could just make out the curve of Fushimi's erection. Yata's own hardness felt almost painful between his legs and it was difficult to bite down the urge to reach down and touch himself.

“Misaki...” Fushimi raised his head slightly, voice breathy and strained. “It's...it's fine now. Just put it in already.”

“A-are you sure?” Yata asked nervously.

“Do I have to say it again?” Fushimi was clearly trying to sound annoyed and not quite succeeding.

“Okay, okay.” Yata tried to calm his pounding heart as he removed his fingers. Fushimi still had his face buried in the pillow and Yata felt a sudden need to see his expression.

“I-I'm gonna move you a little, okay, Saru?” Even as he spoke Yata reached for Fushimi's shoulder, rolling him around so that Fushimi was suddenly lying on his back, staring up. There was a definite flush staining Fushimi's normally pale face and he was already breathing hard.

“Stop staring and do it, idiot virgin,” Fushimi mumbled, throwing up an arm as if to hide his face. There was a sulkiness in his tone that didn't quite manage to hide the tremble in his voice.

“Just...tell me if it hurts, okay?” Yata's heart was pounding in his ears as he positioned himself between Fushimi's legs. Fushimi nodded sharply, the movement barely noticeable with his arm still shielding his face, and if Yata hadn't felt so nervous he would have laughed.

Yata pried Fushimi's legs a little further apart, trying his best to find a comfortable position as he reached down and grasped his own length. He kept one hand on one of Fushimi's legs as he carefully slid himself inside.

Fushimi gave a small whimper that ended in almost a purr, half-pained and half-pleased.

“Is it all right?” Yata hesitated.

“Mm...mm. 'S all right. Just...keep going. A little more...a little deeper.” Fushimi's voice was low and gasping, as if he couldn't quite find his breath. Yata steeled himself and thrust the rest of the way inside. Fushimi felt tight around him and Yata could feel them both shaking.

“I'm—I'm gonna move now, all right?” 

“Just do it already.” The words were sharp but Fushimi's voice was still strained with need. Yata steadied himself and pushed forward. Fushimi's head leaned backwards, pushing against the pillow, and he gave another low whimper of pleasure that made Yata's entire body burn with a sudden deep flush of desire. He thrust forward again, warmth seeping over him, and Fushimi arched his back just slightly. 

_“Misaki._ ” It was almost a whine. Yata wanted to reply but couldn't quite find the breath to, thrusting forward in a steady rhythm. “Misaki.”

The name sounded almost reverent on Fushimi's lips and Yata found his pace increasing with the pounding of the blood in his veins. He risked reaching out one hand and grasped the base of Fushimi's cock, pumping it upward in time with his own movements. Fushimi gave another strangled moan, half-crying his name again and suddenly Yata had never wanted to hear his first name more.

“Misaki....Misaki...” Fushimi was gasping and arching beneath him, barely coherent and breathing hard and Yata could feel the heat pooling between his legs. It was clear neither of them were going to last long and Yata bit his lower lip hard, trying to keep himself in check.

_I want to see his face when he comes._ It was a stupid fleeting thought but Yata could feel the need surging strongly his bones and he risked grabbing onto Fushimi's arm and pulling it down so that he could see Fushimi's face. Fushimi's eyes were half-closed and his hair was a mess, his face flushed and dripping sweat, head rolling back and forth as he whimpered Yata's name. 

“Saruhiko...” Yata grit out, stroking Fushimi's length again. He could feel Fushimi going tense around him and it only made him increase his pace with an almost frenzied need. The blood pounding in his ears couldn't quite drown out the sound of flesh on flesh and Fushimi's soft, gasping moans.

“A...ah...” Another small cry tore itself from Fushimi's throat as he threw his head back and gave a strangled whimper, his cock jerking sharply in Yata's hand as he came. His face was bright red and his fingers clenched tightly around the blankets and the sight of it was all Yata needed. He shuddered hard as he reached his own climax, emptying himself inside Fushimi.

They were both breathing hard and Yata risked leaning down to kiss Fushimi. Fushimi returned the kiss wearily and Yata carefully pulled out, wiping a nervous hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“Saru...that was—I mean, that was _really_ \--” Yata stuttered and Fushimi sat up abruptly.

“I'm going to take a shower.”

“Eh?” Yata stared blankly back at him as Fushimi immediately stumbled to his feet and headed for the bathroom. He put up an arm to cover his face again but Yata could just make out the blush still staining his face and a wetness on his cheeks that might have been tears or might have been sweat. The bathroom door closed shut behind him and Yata sat there dumbly, still mostly naked and not quite sure what had happened.

_Was I bad?_ Yata wondered nervously. The blanket was rumpled and stained with sweat and...other things, and despite knowing he should probably stick it in the laundry Yata didn't quite feel up to it so he simply swept the blanket onto the floor and fell back against the sheets, thinking. Fushimi had seemed like he was okay with it at the time, hadn't he? It had certainly _looked_ like he thought it felt good.

It really _had_ felt good. Yata felt almost giddy as he thought about it, and only a little embarrassed.

_Who's the virgin now, huh?_ He thought with no small measure of satisfaction. This would totally show all those guys. And just see if the stupid monkey tried to call him virgin after all this, especially when Fushimi had been the one to come first. (One second thought Yata decided it was probably better not to mention that one, unless he wanted Fushimi to make it his life's mission to make Yata come first next time and if he hadn't been so tired that thought would have been enough to make Yata hard again.)

The sound of water in the other room turned off and Yata sat back up as Fushimi wandered out of the bathroom. He hadn't bothered to put any clothes on and was rubbing almost sleepily at his wet hair as he stumbled back over to the bed.

“Saruhiko...” Yata started but before he could get another word out Fushimi practically collapsed on top of him, dragging him down onto the bed and curling around him with an obvious air of satisfaction.

“I'm tired,” Fushimi mumbled drowsily.

“So...it was good, right?” Yata ventured. “It didn't hurt? You liked it, right?”

Fushimi raised his head slightly and gave Yata a flat look.

“Tch.” Fushimi rolled his eyes and then looked thoughtful for a moment. “It was fine. For a virgin.”

“I don't need the guy _whose virginity I took_ calling me a virgin,” Yata stated.

“I think you're mistaken about who did the taking here,” Fushimi replied, swallowing a yawn.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Yata considered bringing up the whole 'which one of us came first' thing and decided against it. “I should probably go put the rest of the food in the fridge.”

_“Misaki._ ” Fushimi's voice was sharp even as he cuddled up closer against Yata, arms wrapping around his waist and legs entwining together. “I'm _tired._ ”

“All right, all right.” Yata knew he was smiling like an idiot but couldn't quite stop. “I'll stay here, okay?”

“Mmm.” Fushimi closed his eyes, resting his head in the crook of Yata's neck. There was a long peaceful silence between them.

“So....we can totally do this again tomorrow, right?” Yata asked. 

“If you don't shut up and cuddle I'm going to stab you.”

Yata laughed quietly and wrapped his arms around Fushimi, laying his head back and closing his eyes.

(The good mood lasted until around mid-afternoon the following day, when Yata entered Bar Homra with his head held high, proud in the knowledge that he was no longer a virgin so there that'll show you guys. It turned out that somehow Kamamoto had been convinced to share Yata's plans with the others and as soon as Yata walked in Chitose, Bandou and Eric appeared from the back room brandishing a cake with the words 'Congrats on losing your virginity' written in messy icing on top. Naturally Yata had no choice but to start threatening to beat people up while Kamamoto tried desperately to diffuse the situation. It was right about then that Anna wandered downstairs unnoticed, cut herself a slice of cake and sat down primly in a chair to eat. The room went deathly quiet and in the silence Anna took another bite of cake and offered Yata a calm sincere congratulations, at which point Kusanagi threw them all out of the bar.)

(Meanwhile at Scepter 4, the special forces squad was dumbfounded by Fushimi's sudden incredible good mood. Doumyoji accidentally lost a stack of reports they'd been working on for days and not only did Fushimi _not_ draw a weapon, he didn't even so much as threaten Doumyoji with a horrible death via overtime. The squad members muttered worriedly amongst themselves, wondering if perhaps Fushimi had a fever or was delirious. That was when a text showed up on Hidaka's phone from one of the members of Homra – because even sworn enemies were willing put aside a small grudge in order to help ensure the mutual happiness of their superiors – and everyone had been very quietly excited for Fushimi until Doumyoji happened to catch sight of the phone. He got as far as “Fushimi-san, congratulations on losing your--” before being tackled to the ground by Hidaka and Fuse. Unfortunately the phone fell on the floor during the struggle, where it happened to land right in front of the doorway just as Munakata stepped into the room. He picked the phone up, read the text, and then invited Fushimi into his office where Fushimi spent the next two hours on the receiving end of a lecture about how to ensure a happy and healthy sexual lifestyle. The special forces members spent the rest of the day hiding from Fushimi's newly renewed murderous wrath.)

(They both returned home in various states of bad mood, at which point Yata suggested they have sex again and Fushimi managed to make Yata come first, so in the end everything worked out for the best.)

**Author's Note:**

> You can blame the 'Fushimi doesn't wear underwear' gag on the official art.


End file.
